


Intermezzo

by misspamela



Category: Entourage
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspamela/pseuds/misspamela





	Intermezzo

Drama was wasted about halfway through Saigon's set. Eric could tell, because he was tilting his bottle emphatically at Vince, calling him "baby brother" and scowling at random waitresses. Normally, Vince would clap him on the shoulder and steer him toward the car, but tonight he was leaning back against the bar indulgently, a soft smile on his face. The thing was, nobody on the outside realized that, in spite of everything, Vin was Johnny's little brother, and Johnny would always be the guy who bought them beer and regaled them with fantastic yet inaccurate tales of pussy and blow jobs.

A bump to his shoulder brought Eric back to the present. He turned to see Turtle hopping up on the barstool next to him. Eric didn't even have to gauge to see that Turtle wasn't drinking much. Even when he was selling weed out of his dad's basement, Turtle was a professional.

"So, you think I got a future in the biz, E?" Turtle said, like it didn't really matter.

Eric took a long, slow pull off his beer. Vince was still talking to Drama, but he was looking straight at Eric. Eric licked the last drops of beer from his lips. "Are you kidding? You'll be supporting all our sorry asses in a year." Eric grinned at Turtle. It was good to see him finally using that fucking brain of his.

"Thanks, E." Turtle nodded at the crowd and slid off the stool. "Oh, shit. That's one of Snoop's boys. He must have come in late. Gotta run."

When Eric dragged his eyes back to Vince, Drama was gone and Vince was standing still, poised and elegant against the backdrop of gyrating dancers. He locked eyes with Eric. _Let's go_, he mouthed.

Eric tipped his head back and drained the beer. He didn't bother looking at Vince on his way out the door. Vince would follow.

When they got out to the car, Vince choked out a laugh. "You took this piece of shit _here_? Really? Jesus, E. You can _keep_ the fucking Maserati."

Eric whipped around and jabbed Vince in the chest. "Yes, I can. You know why I can? Because I fucking _earned_ the Maserati. I was doing my _job_, Vince, and you have no right to give me shit for doing my job. I'm your best friend, but sometimes doing my job means being a shitty friend. And you know what? You don't pay me to be your friend."

Vince stared at him from under his eyelashes. "I know I don't pay you to be my friend." He smiled. "I get that part for free, you easy motherfucker."

"No shit." Eric walked around to the driver's side and opened the door. He pointed at Vince. "I'm a good manager, whether I'm managing you or not."

Vince folded himself into the car. "You're a great manager. Now can we go for a ride in this shitbox, or what?"

"Memory lane," Eric said, pulling out of the parking garage.

Vince grinned and pulled a joint out of his pocket. "You got that right."

They smoked in silence for a bit. The acrid smoke swirled around them in the car. Eric wondered if they'd get pulled over; hell, he could get pulled over just for driving the Civic in this neighborhood. Eric kept his thoughts neutral and settled into the bizarre time-warp feeling of being in the car, and listening to the uneven rattle of the engine. Vince must have been thinking of the same thing, because he let out a snorting giggle at the crunching sound the axle made as they hit a pothole. He always hated that noise.

Eric drove without thinking, until they hit a nameless stretch of empty California coastline. He pulled in and parked next to a "scenic view" sign.

"View of _what_?" Vince asked, sounding totally baffled, which sent them into a fresh round of giggles.

The car creaked and groaned for a few minutes after they stopped. It was probably pissed after being stuck in the garage for so long.

"I'm sorry," Vince said, suddenly.

"I know," Eric answered. He sighed. "I'm sorry too."

"Mandy, she…I'm crazy. She makes me crazy."

Eric closed his eyes. "I know."

"I wouldn't have �" " Vince was earnest, pleading.

"Yes, you would." Eric shook his head. "You don't have to explain any more. We're good, okay?"

Vince leaned in toward Eric, his lips curving upward. "We're good," he murmured.

More than half of the 16-year-old girls in this country had Vincent Chase's _Teen People_ spread up on their walls. He was voted "The Most Kissable Bachelor" by _US Weekly._ Eric usually tried not to think about crap like that, but sometimes, in the dark, when Vince was staring at him and licking his lips and reaching out to touch _him_, he gave himself just a second of satisfaction.

"Stop looking so fucking smug. You were right, okay?" Vince took advantage of Eric's hesitation to move in for a kiss, all confident fucking leading-man bravado until the last minute when he pulled back enough to make the kiss gentle, just a sweep of his lips across Eric's.

"This is a bad fucking idea," Eric said, unable to stop his hand from coming up to grab the back of Vince's neck. They hadn't done this in forever, since way before Mandy.

"Sssh," Vince kissed him harder, rasping his beard against Eric's chin. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He was everywhere, all of a sudden, kissing and biting up and down Eric's neck. "Just don't �" I couldn't fucking handle it, any of it, if you weren't fucking here, I never thought you'd go, you scared the shit out of me…" He was losing his shit, and Eric couldn't handle it anymore.

"Jesus, Vince, Jesus. I'm not going anywhere." Eric worked his hands inside Vince's shirt, raking his hands down to his waist, sucking in a deep breath as Vince yanked at his zipper.

After that, the sex didn't matter �" it sucked anyway, with the stick shift getting in the way and Vince's too-long legs, and the way his pants were tangled around his ankles. Vince just kept grinding his hand against Eric's cock, hard, like he liked it, and whispering desperate, needy things into Eric's ear. Eric jerked under his touch, grunted "Fuck!" and smacked his head against the window as he came, rising up against Vince's palm. Dislodging his arm from behind the steering wheel, Eric struggled to catch his breath.

Vince smirked and leaned back in the seat, trailing one hand down his bare abdomen. "Speechless?"

"Not exactly." Eric clambered over the seat and jammed one knee against the door. He wrapped his hand around Vince's cock and whispered in his ear," "If we had more room I'd blow you."

"Jesus," Vince said and gave up, completely unguarded, writhing against Eric, letting himself look real and sweaty and so fucking young it broke Eric a little to see it. _Fucking moron_, Eric thought to himself. _You have to take care of him_. Vince moaned and jerked in Eric's hand as Eric steadied him with his body.

There was an old roll of paper towels in the back seat that they used to clean themselves off. "Just like old times," Eric muttered.

"Yeah, except we don't have to hide behind the Shop-Rite." Vince put his jacket back on. He looked like he could step right out and onto the red carpet. Eric struggled into his sweaty black shirt. God, his hair was probably a nightmare.

Vince cocked his head, staring solemnly at Eric. "Stay with me tonight."

"Stay with you? What the fuck are you talking about? I _live_ with you." Eric started the car and turned onto the road.

"In my room. Stay in my room." Vince put his hand on Eric's thigh.

"The guys�"" Eric started.

"The guys know."

"I _know_ the guys know." The first time they got caught, Turtle had flung one arm over his eyes and yelled at them to get a fucking room, and Drama ran right out to join P-FLAG. "I just don't want more chaos in the house right now."

"Johnny's probably passed out and Turtle's smoked himself blind by now." Vince moved his hand higher up Eric's leg. "Please? We have to get up early to talk to Cameron tomorrow."

"I'm supposed to see Sloane tonight." Eric knew he was losing, but he hated to give in so quickly.

"You're not calling Sloane at this time of night. Don't give me that shit."

"Fine. And we'll all go see Cameron tomorrow." Eric looked out the window.

"Are you taking the job?" Vince asked. He rubbed his thumb in circles against the denim of Eric's jeans.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow." Eric didn't look at him. There was a message from Terrance on his cell. There was a message from Sloane on his cell. There were five messages from Ari on his cell.

"Tomorrow's another day." Vince stretched and yawned. "I'm ready for this one to be fucking over."

He reached over to ruffle Eric's hair, but Eric was too fast for him. Eric ducked his head and smacked Vince's arm with his free hand. "You got that right. Let's go home." He reached in his pocket, flipped his phone open, and shut it off.


End file.
